


Old Magic

by AtrumGrimm



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:05:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtrumGrimm/pseuds/AtrumGrimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if during the Fell WInter Bilbo Baggins ran in to someone? Someone that he learns to trust? Someone that might ensure he his ready for adventure?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning

Crashing shattered the forest, the shadows from the mute sun not doing anything for the large group running. Heavy steps tried to close the distance but each time it looked to be over a small figure would roll or change direction. The soft steps barely left a trace, and the chasing party knew that if they lost sight the small figure would easily disappear in to the gloomy forest.

The small figure, a hobbit, could not keep this up, the large group of orcs knew this just as well as the prey. So when the small figure tripped, they both knew this was the end.

Hazel eyes closed for a moment, the youth of the small lad clear, but then it opened showing hidden steel. The orcs laughed and taunted in the twisted and dark language of theirs as they moved steadily closer. The hobbit hoped it would be quick, like his parents, but knew distantly that the odds were not in his favor.

But then something curious happened, a near by tree, a willow, seemed to sway in the breeze and a whisper of a tune reached the sharp pointed ears of the young hobbit. His eyes locked on something faint, but pain forced him to focus on the danger that was facing him. The hobbit, little Bilbo Baggins, knew enough about this forest that he found himself hoping for the first time the stores were true. Just so that the foul creatures would suffer with him as well. A bit dark for a hobbit, but this winter had seeped out any light it would seem.

There was a whistle, then an orc screamed as his arm that gripped a crude sword dropped to the ground. Chaos quickly filled the small area, the trees thick enough that the orcs couldn't get a clear view and the unknown person took advantage of that. Slowly the numbers dwindled, until one orc finally thought to use the hobbit as a shield, but just as the creature lifted the child there was a wet sounding thunk.

The orc's yellow eyes went wide and the mouth opened in the child's face, but only blood fell from the mouth. The hobbit was dropped, but instead of the hard blood soaked ground meeting him, warm hands did.

Large and fearful eyes stared up at a face that seemed more suited to cheer and not the grim lines that were there.

“Now what are you doing in this forest fauntling? Don't you know you almost ran right in to old man Willow?” The man asked, a lightness in his voice that did not appear in his face.

And that small kindness promptly made the child start to cry. The man cradled the small child against his large chest and rumbled and soothed as best as he could. “Shush now child, you are well.” He cooed and rocked gently back and fourth. A song came to mind and he started to sing.

 

The man made his voice as jolly as he could, and for the type of being he was he easily found some lightness. The child slowly stopped crying, tears making way to sleep. Tom Bombadillo slowly made his way home to his more then likely worried wife.

_Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!_ _Ring a dong! hop along! Fal lal the willow!_ _Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!_

The man made his voice as jolly as he could, and for the type of being he was he easily found some lightness. The child slowly stopped crying, tears making way to sleep as numbness set in. Tom Bombadillo slowly made his way home to his more then likely worried wife.


	2. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look on how things have changed.

Hobbits are prone as a whole to be quick to forget death and loss. Not all do, but they are few and far between. Life goes on, that is a fact, so soon it would seem the Fell Winter slipped from their minds as spring took hold. The only one that seemed to remember, one that couldn't forget no matter how much he wanted to, was one Bilbo Baggins.

The Old Took had taken him in, along with a few others that had become orphans that winter. Now Bilbo had been an average child before, but now he was quiet and seemed lost in memories. The Thain did what he could but he couldn't keep track of everyone. And in all honesty there wasn't anything really wrong. Old Took understood that Bilbo just needed more time, time to grieve and time to move on as was the way of Hobbits.

So the Thain let Bilbo heal (he hoped) in his mother's birthplace and did what he could for his people and for the children. Because of that he couldn't know that Bilbo was struggling more with his grief then the others, that perhaps Bilbo was not healing but being haunted by memories.

It is perhaps not surprising that Bilbo eventually went back to where his last memories of his parents were.

Not all could forget, that much Bilbo hoped, so it was with relief that when he sneaked to the trail near the Old Forest, he was not alone for long.

He know knew who the man was that was humming a tune next to him and watching the sunset. Tom Bombadil, the mysterious but merry master of wood, water and hill stood next to the young hobbit and simply kept him company. The man always had a soft spot for the Little Folk so he had no issue other then one about the fauntling being on the road.

“What brings you here on a fine spring day little faunt?” Tom asked after the sun disappeared in to the forest and Bilbo started in surprise.

The hobbit child turned away from memories and instead looked up at the tall man. “Why do they try to forget?” He asked and the man sighed and stopped humming, crouching down next to the child.

“It is easier on the heart and mind to ignore the memories until they seem to disappear. It is not that they do not grieve, but that perhaps they do not have the strength in to remember and live like they should if they remember.” The man finally said, knowing that it wouldn't help but the only thing he could truthfully say.

“I can't forget.” Bilbo said softly and Tom titled his head and managed a smile at the child.

“Perhaps you do not have to.” He suggested and rested a large hand on a slim shoulder. “Perhaps the gods know that you have the strength to remember for the other hobbits.”

“Like a Thain?” Bilbo asked and Tom laughed and rubbed the curly blond hair.

“Perhaps, but remembering is not always bad. In fact do you know why there is a Thain and not a King?” The man asked as he sat down the dirt road and started to tell what he remembered from long ago back to the First Age.

“A long time ago darkness rose in a valley to the east far from here, a powerful entity that many many know speak of still called Sauron. The Little Folk with their connection felt the earth start to be corrupted. The king of these folk refused to see, blinded by ideas that most now would never think of. And which I refuse to speak of. Out of these hobbits that the king ruled over was a Thain, a military defender that saw what would and did happen. He sought out the dwarfs near by, but they were too deep in their rock to see and feel the creeping darkness. He then went to the wood elves. But the elves did not truly see as well, in their age they couldn't conceive of such a darkness the Little Folk talked of, so they sent them on their way. .He then managed to gather as many as he could that would be willing to travel and left. The hobbits tried again with men, but men fear much and see as well as feel little compared to hobbits. So they kept travelling and encountered a wizard known as Gandalf who spoke of a green valley and rolling hills.”

Tom Bombadil spoke of things he himself could not forget, and what Bilbo's ancestors could not as well. And Bilbo Baggins found away to heal.

 

Each day the young hobbit would met with the man, and soon people whispered that Bilbo had changed. For a hobbit that was something that they could not understand, as change was an uncomfortable process that was not very respectable.

At times that bothered Bilbo, but each time he found out more and what else was forgotten he found himself separating himself. It was not that he looked down on choices that was not his n make, but he found pride in remembering what few others could not.

Slowly tales turned to protection, Bilbo refusing to rely on Tom and slowly learning to look further then a smial. Tom found it amusing to see, and perhaps brought him nostalgia at memories he so easily would share.

Bilbo, on the day of his Coming of Age party, spent that day with his grandfather and the night with Tom. As Bilbo went deeper in to the past and choice to remember and bring back the old ways, at least for himself, he slowly but steadily moved away from the rest of the hobbits.

His feet started to itch, to see his homeland that Tom spoke off. He knew that it wouldn't be his any more, but he started to look to the East. And that was when a gray clad man walked up to a green door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to get the chapter longer but oh well, near Finals for me so I figured to post this as I am not sure how much time I will have later. Thanks for the feed back as well ^_^, I honestly did not expect the almost instant feedback when I first posted.


	3. The road goes on

Many wonder about how much wizards know, what secrets they could tell and if one of them is their own. But many wizards rarely look at the common folk, much to Gandalf Graymane’s displeasure. Because is among the common folk that he himself found the most interesting and sometimes comforting to the old soul.

Hobbits were Gandalf’s comfort, as indeed that is one thing anyone can expect from the gentle child of the west. However there was one Hobbit that had in recent years been a concern for the wizard. A young hobbit by the name of Bilbo Baggins. It was not just because this was a child of a great friend that could no longer look after him, but because Gandalf had always known that Bilbo would do great many things.

So when he had heard that Bilbo had not healed as many had hoped he kept a close eye, not that many knew but the Thain and his friend in the forest aware of it.

Gandalf however was a mix of emotions as he listened to the news over the years, glad that the more Tookish side was not being overtaken but grieving that it seemed to be at the price of his comfort.

But Gandalf was never the type to give up hope, so when he saw the small form sitting outside for a smoke he simply smiled.

The hobbit looked up at the sounds of footsteps and Gandalf was struck of how close the resemblance of his mother.

“Good morning Gandalf!” The hobbit said with a smile and the gray wizard found himself beaming back at the instant recognition that time with Tom Bombadil had more than likely brought.

The wizard smiled back and replied cheerfully enough. “What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or is this morning to be good on?”

Bilbo Baggins laughed softly that somehow reminded the wizard that no matter how Tookish this one was, he was also Bungo Baggins son.

“All of them at once I suppose. What brings you hear this morn Gandalf?” The hobbit asked with a titled head and Gandalf could not stop himself from smiling at the curiosity that it seemed the lad had not grown out of.

“I am looking for a hobbit to go on an adventure.” Gandalf said keeping it for now.

“And you were hoping it was me?” Bilbo prompted and the wizard nodded.

“Indeed. I take it you are willing?” The gray clad wizard asked and the hobbit smirked slightly.

“Of course.”

“Then expect company the next day.” And as if that settled everything the wizard happily said goodbye and was gone.

The hobbit blinked in shock, then started to chuckle. Thanks to his experience with Tom Bombadil he knew a trickster when he saw one, so with that thought he got up and started to make plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but I finished up college, and as I am now looking for work I thought it would be a good time to start posting again. The chapter is rather short, but hopefully I will have something up by Saturday.


	4. So it Begins

Bilbo sighed and finished up the last of the food he was preparing. Tom Brombabil had sent word as well as several Bounders had reported of several dwarrow heading to the shire. It didn’t surprise him that Gandalf would do this, the gray wizard probably thought it would be great amusement for himself along with a hidden lesson.

The hobbit could feel insulted that Gandalf thought of him as a child in need of learning. Granted he always had the impression that the old wizard thought of the hobbits, particularly of the Took family, needed them.

So instead he had gotten food ready and had half an ear cocked for a knock on the door. Sure enough as he was just stepping away from the food there came a loud knock from his front door. Bilbo wiped his hands clean on a nearby towel so his hands weren’t dirty (although he doubted a dwarf would care but as a hobbit Bilbo did) and headed to the front door.

Bilbo had long since gotten used to the feeling of being small and insignificant but the dwarf that was currently evaluating him made him feel it more strongly than any man had.

“Dwalin son of Fundin, at your service.” The large dwarf rumbled and bowed his head.

Bilbo blinked but bowed his head in response. “Bilbo, son of Bungo at yours Master Dwalin.” The hobbit said recalling the correct greeting from some of his interactions with travelers near the Old Forest.

The only reason he saw the slight widening of eyes was because he was fascinated by the tattoos on the dark skin. “Food laddie?” The dwarf growled but the hobbit smiled as he was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling out of his depth.

“Right through the hallway.” Bilbo said with a nod and the dwarf was quickly off. The hobbit didn’t feel insulted as he knew the feeling of wanting food and off one’s feet so instead he stepped out and on to his front door steps.

He reached inside his pocket and was startled to realize that it was his father’s pipe he had. He silently considered the pipe and not for the first time he wondered about what his father would think of all this. His mother would more than likely be thrilled, but it was always his father that he had helped guide him.  
His mother preferred him to find things out for himself, but Bungo always seemed to be worried about his only son.

Bilbo didn’t have much time to wonder as he saw a grandfatherly dwarf making his way over.  The hobbit didn’t let that fool him, his grandfather the Thain had used that same type of image against others.

Bilbo stood up and offered the coming dwarf with a smile.

“Ah, you must be it. Balin, son of Fundin at your service.” The smile was just as comforting as the image, making Bilbo smile despite himself and melancholy memories as the dwarf bowed.

“Bilbo son of Bungo, at your service Master Balin. As I told what I suspect your brother, food is directly inside.” Bilbo said after the dwarf straightened from his bow.

Slight widening of dark eyes showed the dwarf’s surprise. “Ah you must mean Dwalin. Thank you kindly laddie.”

Bilbo bowed his head in response as he searched for a match. “No problem Master Dwarf.” The hobbit stepped to the side and let the dwarf pass, wondering if it was just the fact he was interacting with others was the reason for his memories. It certainly was cause for his social awkwardness.

As if on cue he heard two pairs of boots on the lane and stood up. He must have startled the two as there was twin yelps and Bilbo saw a pair of young looking dwarrow.

“Ah!”

“Oi!”

Bilbo felt his lips twitch in amusement. “I take it you’re the burglar?” The blond one asked and the hobbit tilted his head in confusion.

“You’re the only hobbit not hiding.” The dwarf said with a shrug and Bilbo let it go even as he wondered if he saw the sharpness as the blond gave a mischievous grin.

“I’m the hobbit that Gandalf involved. Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo at your service.” Bilbo said and bowed, just spotting the hint of surprise at his greeting.

“Fili, son of Vili.”

“Kili son of Vili.”

“At your service.” They both said bowing and Bilbo faintly smiled again. “Go right in, like the rest I assume you will want something to eat.” Bilbo said pointing behind him and sure enough the dwarfs where quickly heading in.

He wondered about what he was getting in to, his mind starting to go in circles as he tried to think about what could involve dwarrow so far from their home. After all, most (at least the older ones) were rather protective of their homeland since… surely it couldn’t involve their old mountain?

But he couldn’t think about that know as he saw a large group heading this way, with a gray pointed hat showing who was leading the way.

“Ah, Bilbo my dear. May I introduce these fine dwarrow to you. The Ur family, Bombur, Bifur, and Bofur.” The wizard waved his hand and three dwarrow stepped forward. The larger one that reminded Bilbo of other hobbits bowed and he realized it must be Bombur. Bifur was the next as he bowed with his name, intense eyes that were sharp despite the axe sticking out of his forehead. Next was the one with the hat, the dwarf bowing dramatically.  

“And the Ri family. Dori, Nori, and Ori.” The wizard said as he pointed at each dwarf, the gray haired one bowing, next the dwarf with his hair in a style of a star and the smallest dwarf bowed last, clutching a book surpassingly.

“Would this be the last of the dwarrow then Gandalf?” Bilbo asked, making sure to keep his voice calm even though he half wanted to laugh or curse at the wizard for getting him involved with this mess.

He saw a couple of them of start and he wondered if it was because of the use of the proper word for the plural of dwarf or something else.

“Well that depends, how many have shown up?” The wizard asked and Bilbo rolled his eyes even as he remembered his hobbit manners.

“You can see inside, where the food is.” Bilbo said, turning his head slightly to address the rest of the group.

Instantly all, including the wizard, headed inside but the hobbit couldn’t bring himself to go inside just yet. Bilbo was highly aware that Bag End was the most full it had ever been, and that thought strangely was making his chest tight.

Bilbo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, absently noticing the sun was setting and his pipe was out. His shoulders started to relax, the sounds of a peaceful night in the shire filling his ears even as he heard the merry making from inside attempt to stifle it.

“You there, where is—“

Bilbo started, surprised he hadn’t heard the dwarf (because no other walked with such boots and had such deep voice) that was standing in front of him.

He saw the dwarf staring at a glowing mark and with a start the hobbit realized how each dwarf had known where to go.

“So, you are the hobbit.”

Bilbo looked up at the dwarf as his mind wondered once more what the wizard had gotten him in to.

“Yes, Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo at your service.” The hobbit decided to see what the dwarf would say and hopped he would get more of answer from him.

“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór.” The stern dwarf said and everything clicked in to place even as Bilbo felt his stomach clench.

_Gandalf I am going to have words with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, real life kicking me, but hey, it's three pages long.


End file.
